


fake men

by sabaix



Series: Death Valley [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, M/M, i kinda like killing off characters, skyfall au kinda?, somebody dies again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabaix/pseuds/sabaix
Summary: St. Petersburg is therapeutic.





	fake men

**Author's Note:**

> Hi~ 
> 
> 1\. Anyway, here is my submission for the third day of [#yoimafiaweek](https://yoimafiaweek.tumblr.com). The theme was: Gloves, Reconnaissance.  
> 2\. I might have borrowed some dialogue from Skyfall. Don't sue me. I make no profits.  
> 3\. I listened to LP's entire "Lost on you" album while writing this.  
> 4\. I know it's short, but I wanted to capture a small moment!   
> 5\. As always, comments are love and comments are life.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading~

_"I may have a shot." Yuri's voice flowed through his partner's speakers. "It's not clean." The younger man continued. Yuuri could almost see him frowning down his scope, as if he could switch his .300 Magnum with some looks that were capable of killing. Or maybe he thought he was able to burn a hole in Viktor’s back._

Mornings are always lethargic in St. Petersburg. Most cities Yuuri visited have a cacophony wired in their buildings, but _The Venice of the North_ is a generous friend. She offers Yuuri quiet mornings and sharp weather, sweet memories and bitter drinks, soft hands and rough nights.

He turns to get up, but a small hand catches him. He smiles fondly, acknowledges the gesture by putting his hand over it, but still doesn't turn. The first rays of sunshine are chasing away the last glimpses of nightmares. The hand retreats after a moment, the owner probably deciding he isn't worth the effort. Yuuri gets up and walks naked towards their bathroom. He stops in front of their dresser on his way there. He chooses a suit that'd fit Viktor better than himself.

_"Can you get in a better position?" He asked, desperation bleeding in his tone and words._

_"Negative. No time." Yuri replied, the words rigid on his tongue, fighting with all their power to escape his throat._

The water doesn't have the purification quality Yuuri hoped for. It's cold, it's bitter and it bites. The shower gel, handpicked by Viktor in a Viennese Christmas market, is no better. It's a fake ointment for a fake wound in the trembling hands of a fake man. His skin reddens, but Yuuri keeps going, washing his hair and rubbing at his skin until the pain wakes him up completely. You can never be too clean.

_"Take the shot."_

_"I can't. I might hit Viktor." The sniper didn’t want to do it._

_They both stop. Yuuri didn’t want to say it._

Yuuri dries and brushes his hair without looking into the mirror; he dresses himself without looking inside himself and he returns to the bed looking anywhere but towards the desk hid away in the corner.

He takes his phone and gently shakes the man in the bed. The response is a low growl, mostly covered by the pillow. Yuuri chuckles slightly. It sounds hallow to his ears. The other doesn’t seem to notice. He urges Yuri to wake up again and this time the blonde groans and gets up. A pair of black gloves is the only accessory of clothing he is wearing. He stretches, moving his arms up and down and his head to the left and right. They both know why Yuri covers his hands, the utensils of his craft. They both know why he had a red cross tattooed on his index finger. The blonde man does the same routine as his partner. Yuuri watches him without saying a word. Talking became harder after—

_"Take the bloody shot."_

—Viktor.


End file.
